Dollhouse
by Midnight Circus
Summary: Ryoma is a doll, purchased by the Fuji family.  Alternate Universe
1. Chapter 1

Hey everyone,

This is chapter one! I hope you will enjoy it, because it really calmed me to write this down.

I hate January fourth, and yet I can't stop commemorating it. Old habit, I guess.

I may not be able to update as frequently as before, because school starts tomorrow, and Secondary three at my school is _serious_ business.

So yup! I would appreciate criticism, because it is my first time writing in this style, not to mention first person.

Bye!

* * *

A paintbrush swirled the black pupils into my eyes, a ring of gold left within the orbs. My lips were painted a full pink, a touch of shine on the edges.

He hesitated before reaching for the black paintbrush again, guiding the fibres downwards to color my hair black, intermittent streaks of green, looking accidental, yet still deliberate. I smiled a painted smile as I thought about this. He was the only one who could make useless lumps of clay look this beautiful.

I was varnished, and left on a shelf to dry, looking over his entirely too-small workshop. But this humble place was where the magic happened.

_"There, you're done_," He picked me up and ran a finger down a painted seam of my shirt, "_I'll name you…_ Ryoma_."_

_Ryoma_. It was my new name. _Ryoma_. How sweet it sounded, especially when he said it. _Ryoma._ He printed the name in clear, neat calligraphy under one shoe, next to his signature.

* * *

I spent the next few days in a glass cupboard, next to the other dolls, staring out into a bright and noisy place. I think it was in front of his workshop. Little kids came and went, some had their mothers with them, others just came in to look. Goggle at the beautiful pieces of art.

_"Are you sure you want that one?_"

A brown haired boy was holding onto the hand of a tall man.

The shelf was unlocked, and _his_ callused, long fingers wrapped themselves around my body and placed me on a counter. Was he taking me back to the workshop? A large box was sitting next to me, and pair of strong arms lifted me up and placed me carefully into the container.

No.

Styrofoam blocks were suffocating me. More were added to the top.

_No_.

He was _sending_ me away. He was sending me _away_. He was sending _me_ away.

No. I didn't want this. I had to get out. I tried to beat at the cardboard. He must have made a mistake. He would never send me away. He named me! Ryoma! He said it HIMSELF!

The last thing I saw before he closed the cardboard flaps above my head, was his grey hair, framing sad blue eyes, and a wrinkled face.

_"Your son certainly has good taste, sir._"

_"Thank you._"

* * *

I must have cried myself to sleep, for when I awoke, I was on a shelf, next to some trophies, gold and shiny. This shelf was in a room. Sunny, and extremely messy. White shirts strewn on the bed, with a mauve tie knotted around the doorknob.

In the corner, a young boy was bending over his table. Just like _He_ used to, when moulding a new face. I wonder if he still remembered me, after sending me away, after working on me for _two months_. I was his finest piece of work, he used to say. I wonder if he still thought so. Probably not.

_"Yuuta, dinner!_"

So the boy's name was Yuuta, then. He jumped up and ran out of the room. I could feel the loud vibrations of his feet as he ran. The door was left wide open.

Where was I? I felt the same, I was in the same standing position, I was still wearing the same shirt. My face still felt the same, the lopsided smirk _He_ had specially painted on for me. But why did everything feel so… different? Like something had changed… something big… And yet I knew it couldn't be that big, because, on the outside, I still looked the same.

_"Syuusuke, you too!_"

_"Yes, I'm coming_." The reply was soft, girlish, even.

A boy, Syuusuke, walked past Yuuta's open door, socks not making a sound against the wooden panels. The grace of a dancer. He was like _His_ fingers delicately shaping clay; slow, liquid movements. He looked into Yuuta's room and shook his head. Yes it was indeed very mess—

The moment passed so quickly it was hard to tell if it actually happened. For a fraction of a second, his eyes passed over the shelf on which I was sitting, and he smiled before disappearing behind the plaster wall.

I may not have gotten it completely right, for it happened so fast, but I was positive, that I saw something. A flash of bright blue.

Was it his eyes? Was it _His_ eyes?

Or maybe it was just my imagination.

* * *

I could only catch snippets of their conversation from my position on the shelf. The open door did much to help me making out the words.

_"Yuuta, do you like your birthday present?"_

_"Yeah! Thanks dad!"_

_"Was it the doll?"_

_"Yes!"_

_"Yuuta, don't you think you're a bit too old to play with dolls?"_

_"I'm not playing! It's just pretty._"

Was I supposed to be 'played' with? What are they going to do to me? I had seen some broken dolls in _His _workshop. Was this Yuuta going to do that to me? One doll I saw in the workshop had his arm broken off, and the scratches and scrapes on his face and clothes already exposed the pale ceramic beneath it. Was that what was going to happen to me? Did he send me over just to… just to…

How _could_ he? How could he do this to me? He promised… promised… nothing. He never said anything about keeping me, but… I thought…

_"Ryoma_!"

Yuuta had returned to the room. I screamed as I saw him reach out towards me. No! I wasn't going to be broken. I didn't _want_ to be broken! I writhed away, but it didn't seem to faze him. Yuuta placed me on his desk and stared, hard, straight at me. It was uncomfortable. I wanted to leave. I wanted the cool, dry air of the basement workshop. This was too bright. This was too humid.

He picked up a pencil and I cringed. Was he going to draw on my face? My body? I had heard of that before. Some of the broken dolls _He_ salvaged had markings and ink covering their paint. This wasn't _fair_. I didn't want to look. If he was going to scribble and maul me, I wouldn't see it. Two months of work! Ruined! Would _he_ be mad?

_"Hmmm…_" Yuuta bit on the back of his pencil and reached out to me. This was the end. The end of Ryoma. The end of me.

Surprisingly, the blow I expected never came, though I did feel slight pressure on my lower back. I was shifted. Looking up at Yuuta, I saw him purse his lips in satisfaction, and press the pencil to paper. Silence, except for the quick scratches of Yuuta's pencil.

To be honest, I got kind of bored standing in the same position after realizing that he wasn't going to break me. I did wonder what he was doing on the paper, and an occasional glance was thrown that way whenever he wasn't staring at me.

After god knows how long, he held up the paper, and propped it up next to me, eyes flitting between to me, and the white sheet. Then suddenly, his smile morphed into a frown and he snatched up the paper, crumpling it and tossing it at the closed door. Tearing at his hair, probably in frustration, Yuuta stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I had no idea why he did that. What was on the sheet that aggravated him so?

_"Yuuta?_" The bob haired boy popped his head into Yuuta's room, _"Are you there?_"

Obviously not, for the room was empty. The boy… Syuusuke, wasn't it? looked prepared to leave, until he saw the crumpled sheet on the floor, just at his feet. Bending over, he picked it up, eyes widening before stretching into upside down 'U's to match a smile. A smile that chilled me to the bone. I remember _Him_ painting one of those on Gin, then painting over it a few weeks later. He… Syuusuke looked up and scanned the room, before his eyes landed on me.

Yes, I was right. Bright blue, unlike Yuuta's soft brown.

He chuckled, and the feeling of dread that had just left me came back again, hitting me like a sack of rocks in the gut. Yuuta's vacated seat was occupied again, and Syuusuke sat down, leaning back and observed me, his intense gaze never leaving its mark on the area in the middle of my forehead. He looked from me, then to the paper, before giving another unsettling grin and picking up Yuuta's abandoned pencil, scribbling something on the corner of the paper.

_"This is very pretty, no?_"

It took some time for me to realize that he was actually speaking to me, and by the time I did so, with some astonishment, he had already left, the paper supported by a table lamp. I stared, and a replica of my face stared back.

_You have improved, my darling Yuuta_

When Yuuta saw those six words, various emotions played on his face. First surprise, than embarrassment, then anger, then pride, then happiness.

_"Damn you, brother…_"

He said that with a funny little smile that betrayed the words he said. Sarcasm? It didn't seem much like it. I saw him smoothen out the creases on the paper with a ruler, and slip the paper into a folder.

The next time he reached out to pick me up, I didn't struggle.

* * *

I spent the next two years being carried from the shelf, to the desk, to the bed-side table, back to the shelf, into the cupboard, and onto the desk again. I enjoyed most of my life, though sometimes I felt like Yuuta had forgotten about me, especially when he leaves me in a drawer, sometimes for months on end. But I don't mind. I know he'll always take me out sometime or other. Sometimes he draws me, sometimes he just stares and stares. And sometimes he just takes me out to change my location, maybe place me on higher ground…

And Syuusuke is with him sometimes. I am… addicted… to his eyes. They remind me of home. That curious blue tint isn't really common, though I'm not really one to talk, seeing as I've never seen much.

I see Syuusuke quite a bit, probably not as much as Yuuta, but a lot, all the same. He rarely opened his eyes, though, always smiling at me in that knowing way, talking to me when no one was around.

How he expected me to answer was anybody's guess. I don't think he's mentally sound. But he looked like a doll. _He_ would have liked his face. It was pretty, proportionate, and aesthetic. Yes. It was the exact face that _He_ loved to create.

I wonder why he didn't make my face like that. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe that's why he sent me away. Well, if it was, I'm fine with it. Yuuta's really nice, and so is Syuusuke. Yoshiko sometimes comes in to clean Yuuta's room. She looks like Syuusuke, just with brown eyes, like Yuuta. I wonder where Syuusuke gets his color from. I've never seen their dad.

* * *

In my third year in the Fuji household, disaster struck.

It was shaking. Everything was. Really, really… truly… petrifying. Yuuta had been ushered out by Yoshiko. I saw Syuusuke run past his room with a kind of panic I had never seen before, hair flying behind him. I shouted out to him. To save me. I was frightened. I was so afraid. The room was shaking. The swiveling chair Yuuta used to always sit on was overturned. The shelf I was sitting on started to wobble, rattling its contents. Sheer terror gripped at my chest. Some books were already loosening themselves from the book separators, and dropping onto the floor. Against all better judgment, I stole glance at the ground.

I immediately regretted it. It was a long, long, long _drop_. No barriers, no safety net. Just one and a half metres of steep vertical plunging.

This is really the end… I really thought that it was the end for me. Three years. Some dolls don't even last that long.

More shaking, then a book dislodged behind me and knocked me off my stand.

The two second drop felt like hours. I turned, the room was upside down. Free fall. For a while, my body felt free, no gravity. The irony, for it was this very force that brought me crushing against the ground.

A few, sickening crunches, then pure agony. Pain of unimaginable intensity tore my mind and body to shreds.

Oblivion.

* * *

_"Oh god, oh god, no."_

_"Yuuta…"_

_"No! Look at him! He's… he's just…" Tears poured down Yuuta's cheeks as he stared at the broken form of his doll._

_"I'm sorry, Yuuta."_

_Yuuta continued sobbing, the words 'father' and 'birthday' barely discernable between unintelligible moans._

_"Yuuta…"_

_"Brother, please leave. I just… just some time."_

_"Call me when you need me." Syuusuke stood up, watching as sobs racked Yuuta's shoulders, his crouched form making him look all the more vulnerable. He sighed, shutting the door behind him with a small click. _

_If there was _anything_ he could do…_

* * *

When I woke up, my body was numb. I couldn't feel pain. But I couldn't feel anything else either. Just numbness, in essence, nothing. I couldn't truthfully say I didn't like it, though. It was infinitely better than the extreme pain I felt before I blacked out.

I looked up. Syuusuke was bending over me, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. I thought about how much more attractive he looked when he was absorbed in something. And again, I wondered, if I looked like him, would _He_ have kept me. Syuusuke should be a doll, he really should.

Then Syuusuke picked something up, and I very nearly fainted again. It was my arm. My arm. My… I looked over at my dismembered limb. My arm was no longer in its place. It wasn't even on my body. My entire lower section had been sliced off as well. I saw my foot lying a few inches from my face.

I could have thrown up if I had anything to regurgitate. Syuusuke brought up a nasty smelling liquid to my arm, smearing liberal amounts of the putrid goo onto the severed limb.

_"Sorry, Ryoma._"

I gave a yelp when he pressed my arm back into the socket. Suddenly, like needles piercing my skin, I felt prickling on the arm Syuusuke had just reattached.

_"I guess I should have warned you. This might hurt even more._"

I felt a small pressure on my waist, then the same prickling sensation was attacking my legs.

_"Almost done now, please bear with it_."

I was begging him to stop. It was hurting me.

A sudden pang of pain on my left foot caused me to jerk instinctively away.

_"The worst of it is over now. I hope I didn't hurt you too much_."

I could have openly snorted if I wasn't feeling so damn pathetic. Syuusuke left me lying on the table and exited the room. I was alone.

Was he going to throw me away? Because I was broken?

Then he was back, holding a brush. An overwhelming sense of nostalgia came over me and I remembered _His_ fingers tenderly shaping the clay of my body, brushing lightly at my face and clothes. Then it was Syuusuke's smooth fingers, painting over the scars caused by the fall.

The pain had fainted into something more of a dull ache, and the ticklish brush was welcome against my sore flesh.

* * *

_"Oh! Brother! You… you… Fixed…"_

_"Yes, I fixed him, do you want to say hello?"_

_"I'm just…"_

_"Well? Take him, he's yours_."

Syuusuke had touched up on my paintwork, covering the cracks of the porcelain with another coat of paint and varnish.

Syuusuke held me out towards Yuuta, and I noticed how far away my feet were from the ground, held, dangling, only supported by Syuuske's hands. If he _dropped_ me…

_"I am really grateful, brother, but I don't think I want to keep Ryoma any longer."_

I was a tad insulted, despite being broken, I had been fixed as good as new, perhaps even better.

_"I thought…_" It seemed Syuusuke was also a little hurt.

_"It's not that I don't appreciate it, brother, it's just that… dad… Ryoma reminded me of Dad, and I always thought that that if he was gone, Dad would disappear from my mind as well. But, I thought about it… and…"_

Syuusuke broke into a smile, and nodded in understanding, "Then I'll keep Ryoma, you're fine with that?"

_"Yeah, I suppose I do have enough drawings of him by now."_

_"So it would seem, care to show me any?"_

_"No way."_

* * *

_"Just two weeks ago, a 6.3 magnitude earthquake struck disaster on Narita, Chiba, followed by a 5.9 aftershock just last week. We have our correspondent over right now to report on the situation in Narita. So tell us, Kobayashi-san, how are the residents dealing with this calamity?"_

_"Well, Sugimura-san, as you can see from the video feed, the villagers are coping well. Those who have been displaced have been housed in shelters. However, those buildings further away from the epicentre, here and here, have not been affected as much, though there are still many casualties from falling debris and such. The government has been sending aid and relief efforts have been extremely successf—_"

Syuusuke turned off the television. I watched him curiously as he ripped off a piece of packing tape, sealing the last of the cardboard boxes. I knew the Fuji family had always planned on leaving Chiba for Tokyo that year, but the earthquake seemed to have shaken Yoshiko considerably, no pun intended, and she brought forward their departure date two months.

I feel her there. I hate earthquakes. Though I suppose it could have been worse. It's just lucky that the Fuji's are living in the countryside and not the city. Good for them, I guess. And for me too. At least my parts were still intact after the fall.

Every time I remembered my body being broken into _that_ many pieces, I would think about what would have happened to me if one of my limbs had flew out of the window or something.

Perhaps Syuusuke would have made an extra one for me.

Living with Syuusuke has been a most peculiar experience. For one, I was placed on the windowsill, with the bed under me. I would have liked this arrangement if not for the numerous spiky cacti that shared the windowsill with me. They scare the socks off my feet. But Syuusuke seemed to like them.

And I found out that I wasn't the only thing Syuusuke talked to. He talked to the cacti as well. I suppose he put me with them so he could talk to us all at once, which is perhaps more efficient that saying something to me, then having to say it all over again to the cacti.

Other than that, his room was absolutely _immaculate_. It was a bit of a culture shock of sorts, especially after having been in Yuuta's room for the past three years of my life. Which only spanned… well, just a little over three years.

Well, I can only hope it can stretch longer. I wonder if Tokyo is a nice place. Syuusuke brought a friend home the other day, and he said that Tokyo was horrible. I don't think it's as bad as he makes it out to be. I mean, there can only be _this_ many red-light districts in the world.

Ah well, only one way to find out. They're leaving next week. I have to say I'm really excited.

* * *

Oh Ryoma, if only you knew what was in store for you...

Just joking, hope you enjoyed it!

I'll update as soon as I can. But school just started, so maybe i can be a little more lax. But once the schoolwork really kicks in...

Um, still as soon as I can.

Writing is not a chore for me, it is refreshing, so I probably will do it as much as possible.

Ciao!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey everyone

I'm really stressed out right now. It's only the first week of school, Al, what is wrong with you?

What is wrong with me? Well, let me think of where to start...

Oh yes, I have chosen to study ten subjects in twenty eleven! Aren't I just the smartest ever? Well, at least I dropped Spanish, so I have a couple extra hours per week... a couple with an affair, that is. And just today, I mixed up the character for 'slow' with the character for 'permeate'. I used the character twice, so that's two marks deducted from a seventy mark essay. TWO MARKS because of one little careless mistake. GAH! PISS ME OFFF!

Heck. Enjoy this chapter and the start of a new school year! (or end of Christmas holidays for some of you... Most of you, actually. Who here knows anyone who starts a new school year in January?)

And I want to thank every single one of you who have reviewed and commented and favourite or alerted!

I was so surprised to come home and suddenly see my inbox flooded.

Maybe not flooded, but a substantial amount all the same.

Like a puddle.

I splash in it.

**IF YOU DON'T READ ANYTHING ELSE, JUST READ THIS BOLD PART. Okay, I have changed the writing style to be more present tense, like a diary-ish sort of language, instead of the narrative thingy I used for the last chapter. It wasn't intentional, per se, but I liked the way it turned out and kept it this way. **

**Just tell me what you think about it so I can improve. You know you want me to improve!** Thanks everyone, again!

* * *

We have arrived in Tokyo this morning. I am still mildly traumatized by the ride in a cardboard box along with Fuji's cacti.

In all honesty, I really do not like cacti. One of them pricked me, and almost flaked a bit of paint off my face. And it would have, if not for the fact that Syuusuke had very wisely used three coats of varnish instead of the normal one coat.

Anyway, we are here in Tokyo, and their apartment here is _way_ smaller than the one in Chiba. Good thing is, I haven't seen _anything_ Syuusuke's friend said we were going to. Good, because I don't think Syuusuke wants to expose his darling Yuuta to that kind of thing... Yoshiko has settled down well enough, though I highly doubt she has completely recovered from the Narita quake.

I don't think I have, either. Syuusuke put me on the windowsill again, so his cacti can get some sun, and he doesn't have to talk too much, but he hasn't moved the bed under me this time, and I am kind of freaked out by the idea that I might fall again.

It's not that I don't trust Syuusuke's fixing skills, it's just that it hurt really bad. Both the breaking and the fixing.

I think I'd rather not go through another experience like that ever again.

My stomach is still sore, mind you.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Syuusuke has gone to school. I saw him leave in a black school uniform with gold buttons. It was nice looking, but I've seen nicer school uniforms _He_ painted before. I actually like those uniforms, but they are a bit stiff, aren't they?

His room is slightly smaller, and I'm glad Syuusuke had the sense to move me into a glass shelf, where my view remains unobstructed, while I am still kind of protected. He hasn't been talking me lately, though the only consolation I have is that he hasn't been talking to his cacti either. He's probably just stressed out by the change, and joining school in the middle of the term.

I feel bad for him. But I know he'll be an instant hit. His looks, not to mention his talent in tennis, should be more than enough to bolster his popularity.

I wish I could go to school too. Maybe me and Syuusuke could become real friends.

Oh nevermind, Syuusuke's friends don't get to see him out of school, do they? And they don't get to see him clean his room, and hang photos around for decoration, and they don't get to see him sew pencil cases for Yuuta either. Nope, they don't. It's the only privilege I have, and I would like to maximize its benefits, thank-you-very-much.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Syuusuke has joined the regulars tennis team of Seigaku! I know that because he came in with some of his friends one day, and they were all wearing matching white and blue windbreakers with SEIGAKU TENNIS TEAM embroidered on the back. They were all very loud, though one of them was acting like a big rock. I actually didn't notice him there until Syuusuke started a conversation with him, because he blended in so well with the room.

And speaking of the room, I get a feeling Syuusuke wants to paint it in pastels, like the one he had back in Chiba.

Of course, Yuuta is trying desperately to talk him out of it. Not that it will really matter to him, since he's going to a boarding school. I, for one don't mind pastels. Just as long as he doesn't paint butterflies on the ceiling like he did before.

He should paint it black, with white stars. That'll be pretty. It will probably make the room feel a bit bigger as well.

Anyway, the rock's name is Tezuka. Tezuka Kunimitsu. But Syuusuke calls him Tezuka. So I should call him that too, I guess?

And there is this other one. He's like a cat. Probably worse, since he also has frequent bouts of logorrhoea. I don't know why he keeps making cat noises, but it gets annoying after a while. Though I do suppose it's better than being a rock. He also gets irritating, saying 'Hn' and 'Mh' all the way. I don't think he's said more than twenty whole words in his visit. _Don't let your guard down_. That's five words already, isn't it? He said it at least _twice_. At least.

Heck. It's getting a bit stuffy in the cupboard, and I'm wondering when Syuusuke will take me out for a breath of fresh air.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He has been coming back later and later each day. I think it's tennis practice. I've never really noticed it while we were in Chiba, but I think that's more of because I was mostly in Yuuta's room than anything else.

Most of the time he says hi when he comes back, but some days, like today, for instance, he just gets into bed and sleeps until dinnertime, then spends five minutes in the kitchen to eat whatever he can in that time-frame and comes back to do his homework. I've never seen him sleep earlier than eleven-thirty.

I wish I had an alarm system that would set off whenever his work stretches too late.

He slept at three today. He's waking up at six thirty tomorrow, or rather, today, for morning practice. Should I be worried?

I'll just see if anything happens. Maybe he's just trying his best to catch up with schoolwork. Tokyo is tough.

It's times like this where I truly appreciate how simple my life is.

Sometimes Yuuta tells Syuusuke to 'Get a life'. Is it a metaphor?

I want to know how to get one, if I don't already _have_ a life. Hard to say.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A new book has been added to my shelf. It is really old and dusty. I hope it hasn't been floating around in any dumpsters. It's called... _Lolita_. With those weird squiggly lines above some of the letters.

Published in 2002. It looks too old to be just eight years old. It's almost ancient.

But I'm glad to see Syuusuke has been reading again. Said hello when he opened the shelf. I don't know if he wants me to answer or not. He really is a funny fellow. I don't know what to make of him. He is beginning to start smiling again in that perplexing way of his. I'd never actually noticed when he stopped creeping me out. Perhaps after we moved? It has been three weeks after all.

I wish he could stay around home more. It's boring just to stand and do nothing but stare out at an empty room all day. I would go read some of the books on the shelf behind me if I could, but they're behind me, and my shelf happens to be dedicated to books of strange languages. I think it's French. Not sure, but I'm quite sure I saw... _Paris, je t'aime_. I have a feeling Syuusuke only gets those novels to say things in French nobody understands, just to creep them out. I only understand Japanese and English after all. _He_ used to use English all day. Now that I look back at it, it _has_ been a while since I left his workshop...

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Syuusuke has gone on to training camp. I don't know what he is going to do. Play tennis? But there has to be something more to do other than playing tennis and conditioning all day. Right?

With these extremists, it's nearly impossible to tell sometimes.

I swear, some of Syuusuke's team members _live_ on the courts. And I mean that literally. I wouldn't mind trying it out if I could, just to see what's so fun about it. It seems Yuuta has joined his school's tennis team as well. Syuusuke doesn't seem too happy about this development. Che, the hypocrite.

Yuuta has come back home to stay for the weekend Syuusuke is at camp. I don't think the clouds of their last argument has blown over yet. Yoshiko is trying to get them to make up, but she doesn't seem to be succeeding. I think Syuusuke just needs some time to get over the fact that his brother has a life of his own. I feel sorry for Syuusuke, really, I do. But Yuuta does deserve a social life.

Syuusuke was scaring all his friends away.

I don't think he even needs to put in effort to be frightening.

It's getting a little lonely here, not to mention dull. These books don't do anything. They don't grow, like the cacti, they don't swell, like the cacti. In fact, I would very much have preferred to be next to the cacti again. At least then, I'll be too scared too witless to be bored.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

It is the end of the long weekend, and Syuusuke came back from camp just an hour after Yuuta left for St. Rudolph's. I think he's still a bit put out that no one told him that Yuuta was visiting. I wouldn't put it past him to quit the tennis team just to get his darling Yuuta to stay at home.

And then again, maybe not...

It's a little sad to have a brother like that. But... a friend, maybe it'll be better?

Perhaps.

Whatever. Yuuta's birthday is almost here. I haven't the slightest clue how Syuusuke is going to convince him to come home for family dinner.

Yuuta has given up drawing. I know because Syuusuke has stopped stalking his room for sketches to add to his secret stash. He was pretty good at it too. I guess people who obsess over tennis can't have any other hobby. I fail to see what all the fuss is about.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Today is Yuuta's birthday. Syuusuke is still at practice. Yuuta is waiting in his room. I have a feeling he's rather hurt that his brother isn't back to celebrate his birthday. Well, he's definitely feeling worse than he's letting on, that's for sure. What _is_ Syuusuke thinking? If this is his idea of reconciliation, I'll have to rethink my entire opinion of him. Honestly.

_"Mom, is he back?"_

_"Sorry, not yet Yuuta-honey."_

It's almost five thirty. I pray, for Yuuta's sake, that he'll be back soon.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

I was wrong. Syuusuke is just about the best brother a boy like Yuuta can have.

Turns out he was at St. Rudolph's. He invited the entire regulars team over. At least I _think_ it was the entire team, but I thought he looked rather sneaky when he came back.

Unfortunately, he didn't tell Yoshiko about this new arrangement, and now the team is stuffing themselves on junk food, waiting for Yoshiko to churn out an extra seven servings of food. Syuusuke seemed to be prepared enough. Turns out he was planning this all along.

And I was just wondering what the large bags under his bed were. As it turns out, chips and soda.

Figures. Syuusuke said something about a surprise when he woke up this morning. I just didn't quite get it, I suppose.

It would be nice if I could join them. Junk food sounds nice.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

I think Syuusuke is beginning to hate Tokyo.

Just two months here and he's already stocked up enough fangirls to create a fanclub. Yoshiko asked him about his torn clothing when he came home. Poor guy, I think he's going to be scarred for life. I would suggest for him to skip next year's Valentine's day, but...

He'll live. Chiba girls were never this violent. That's the impression I get, anyway. I think fangirls are the only thing that can make Syuusuke skip tennis practice. Which is what he did today.

He brought the rock home. I think they were running for their lives together. No idea why anyone would be chasing a rock, but eeeh...

The rock is sitting on Syuusuke's bed. He stared at me when he came in. Syuusuke must have noticed, because he introduced us.

I think my respect for rock has grown. He didn't give Syuusuke the 'I-think-you're-crazy' look when Syuusuke called me by name. Ryoma. No one has called me that for some time.

Maybe I should call him Tezuka. Yoshiko has invited him for dinner. I can get to know him better?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

I really don't know what to say.

Fuji is kissing the rock. Tezuka.

I know Valentine's day kind of makes one a bit fluffy in the head, but this is just too much. I wonder if Yoshiko will come over if I manage to make enough noise.

I can't watch. But I can't move either.

This is the worst.

I wonder what _He_ has done to those wedding dolls he made. I pretty sure they weren't... like... that...

_"I love you."_

_"I love you too."_

* * *

Erm, so yeah, this is it!

Tell me what you thought, tell me what you think SUCKED, or what you think was done well. If you seriously think I'm the sort of person who will stalk you to the ends of the earth if you say something bad, you can leave an anonymous review. I think that is possible... There is this funny little button... I've never actually _tried_ it, though. The button, not the stalking.

I appreciate all the reviews, I really _really really_ do. It makes me **_inhumanly_** happy, but it doesn't give me much to work with...

So, yeah! FAR people! Remember, F.A.R...

Nah, no pressure.


	3. Chapter 3

Yoyoyo!

Back from camp, ten shades tanner and sunburnt! Kayaked for sixteen kilometres from six thirty to three thirty non stop. Tiring much? I WILL MISS YOU OBS! I WILL MISS YOU DANIEL!

I have this pale watchtan on my wrist, and people keep saying "wow, you wear a white watch— wait, it's just a tan..."

Sham you guys.

I picked that up from camp. This girl from the other class keeps using it.

Apparently sham = shit + damn.

Useful, efficient, not to mention no one knows what you're talking about.

Why not use it?

I am in love with all you reviewers. Oh gosh. I... I... can barely breathe.

Is this an obsession? I think I need psychiatric help.

HELP I AM OBSESSED WITH REVIEWERS!

Enjoy! And since someone asked me to keep it to this style, I did ^^ I also liked it muchies

* * *

I want to cry.

Everything is so dark.

I feel like I'd just been abandoned all over again.

In a way, I have.

What am I supposed to think?

I just feel sick whenever I imagine what they are doing outside.

I cannot see. I thought he would never put me in a drawer like Yuuta did. I thought he liked me. Why did he do this?

And why did the cacti get to stay outside?

I... I hate them.

Humans. You never know what they want. One moment they cherish you, then the next chance they get, they just throw you off to gather dust. He fixed me up, so nicely, and still...

Humans, it really isn't a loss just to eradicate them.

But it's fine. I'm perfectly okay here.

The drawer is dry, though not uncomfortably so, and I might be able to see once I adjust my eyes to the change in lighting. It's fine.

It's okay. It's warm, and there is a nice roll of polyester stuffing to prevent me from knocking into anything and breaking my ceramics. And there's this roll of raffia to prevent the knocking from getting too loud. Not only that, there is good ventilation. It's not stuffy like the glass cupboard. And I'm also protected from some dust. It's comfortable. I don't have to stand all the time.

Anyway, who needs him?

If he wants to lock me in here while he kisses the face off that rock, I'm perfectly supportive.

In fact, I won't even get in their way.

I'm just going to sit here, and... and...

Well.

I hate the _whole lot_ of them.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Fuji is at practice. I shudder to think what he and that rock of a captain are doing outside home, where they don't have to bother about Yoshiko...

I'm taking a nap. This polyester stuffing is very soft, albeit a little ticklish.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Fuji moved me to the desk today. Next to, or rather, right underneath the desk lamp. It is insanely, blindingly bright. And hot.

I would have preferred the drawer. Where I can't see the two of them wrestling like mad dolts.

All he does is absorb himself in his books, homework, and Tezuka's face. He has taken to talking to himself now, no more cacti.

I wonder if the cacti are feeling lost too.

I think he really likes Tezuka, and for that, I might just be able to forgive the two weeks of solitary isolation in drawer. In maybe a year or so. For now, I'm still a bit fed up.

Very, fed up.

This year isn't leap year, so everyone is still a bit confused as to when to celebrate Fuji-senior's birthday. I don't think I'll call him by his first name again until I'm completely over this incident. I think they should just do it on March first, but that doesn't sound right.

But it is the day after February twenty-eight. So... I really have no idea.

It seems Fuji just doesn't _want _to celebrate his birthday. He feels that birthday celebrations are a silly affair. I _think_ my birthday is the day before Christmas. _He_ stamped it somewhere. I'll just have to find it.

Fuji just doesn't like to be in the centre of attention (unless it happens to be the attention of a certain rock). Till now, I still can't comprehend what is so appealing about the rock. Is he really that tasteless?

And then again, he does eat wasabi sushi on a regular basis.

Eurgh.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Yuuta is back home again. Ever since his birthday, he and his brother have been on relatively good terms, though there was something about 'Mizuki locked in a cupboard' that did make him go a little mad.

Poor Mizuki. From what I've gathered from their very heated discussions, or, more appropriately, arguments, it seems that Mizuki had been the one who got Yuuta to join the St Rudolph's tennis club. Apparently, Yuuta was arranged to go to Seigaku with his brother until Mizuki came along.

I really pity him, to be on the receiving end of Fuji-senior's wrath and ropes. I swear I saw a book on how to tie knots that can't be undone. On the lower shelf... which means he probably reads that one a lot.

Yuuta said something about them only finding him the next day, tied up in the tennis storage room, which is apparently the size of a broom closet.

But anyway, Yuuta has decided to overlook it, which explains why he's back here today.

Fuji should stop teasing Yuuta so much. I could hear him dropping his spoon onto his plate countless times during dinner. It's rather maddening. That _clink clank_ sound just drives me up the wall. He should just use plastic spoons and be done with it.

Or rubber. It'll bounce right up after you drop it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Today is, unofficially, Fuji's birthday. March first. He asked his mom not to celebrate it too much because it would be an 'insult to his real birth date'.

I think he just wants an excuse to be out late with his paperweight boyfriend.

I do not like him.

Anyway, they had this upside-down plate of mango pudding with candles stuck in it as a cake. Fuji had very nicely brought me down to the dining table so I could get some of the action. Good. Couple more times like this and I just might use his first name again.

He is fifteen this year.

Three more years and he'll be off to college. Maybe earlier, since he's so smart.

The three years in Chiba really passed real quickly. I hope the next three won't be as fast.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hooray.

What is it for? Well, it's currently spring break. Fuji's out, which pretty much defeats the purpose of the 'break' thing. He's supposed to be at home. Sleeping. Resting. Being _away_ from tennis.

I think spring break is just an extra excuse for Mister Rock to work the tennis team for ten hours instead for the usual four.

So currently, Fuji's schedule is:

Wake up at seven, eat breakfast, leave home at seven fifteen, get to school at seven forty five, practice until six thirty in the evening, get back home at seven, eat dinner and do some of the holiday homework before sleeping at eleven. On the days he doesn't have compulsory tennis practice, he is still out, either with his team, or with Yuuta.

Well, I'm glad to see that he's _really_ making use of the holidays to get some rest.

I'm not really good with sarcasm...

Honestly. If that bloody stone doesn't stop overworking Fuji, I'm going to... stare at him until he freaks out.

What else is there for me to do?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Spring break is ending soon, and Fuji is killing himself trying to finish all the work their stupid teachers have assigned them. Obviously, they overestimate their students. I've never seen him this stressed. He has been banging his head on his pillow when he sleeps. Which is extremely infrequently, by the way.

Tezuka is here today, trying to help a very frenetic Fuji with his unfinished essays and really playing his part as a paperweight. Right now, he is helping Fuji sort out and holepunch his worksheets so Fuji can file them. It's a bit dizzying to see the same fold punch snap click over and over and over again.

Not to mention all of Fuji's ring binders are a blinding neon shade. Has he no dignity? Have his teachers no dignity? They're the ones who have to carry it around to do file checking, no?

Oh dear god, they're _up to it_ again.

Clearly, these study dates aren't effective at all.

This Tezuka issue has put quite some pressure on Fuji's academics. For the goodness and health of him, I strongly suggest him just dumping Tezuka and just be done with it.

It solves most of the problems he's facing right now.

0o0o0o0o0

Fuji left for school looking a lot more tired than he did before the break. I think these so called breaks just make him more exhausted than before.

Yoshiko is worried for him too. He has become dreadfully thin. He is still of acceptable weight, but it is still... He looks unhealthy. Let's just leave it at that.

At least Yoshiko has convinced him to drop History class, so his schedule should have one more hour than before. Tournament season is coming up, and Tezuka is driving his team so hard it can be classified as torture. Just look at Syuusuke.

That poor idiot.

I really want to help him some.

Do his homework or whatever.

That way, maybe I won't seem so useless, sitting on the table everyday and watching him stressing out over a piece of paper with words written on so thickly it's almost black.

Haven't those dumb teachers heard of a thing called 'line breaks'? They should have, seeing as they ask their students to use double spaces for all the essays they hand in.

Those bloody hypocrites.

Fuji's too damn smart for school, and they know that.

But they still pile work on him, the bunch of retards.

I am quite angry right now. Maybe I'll go cool off before I say something that might permanently cause offence.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Fuji has taken ill today. I'm not sadistic enough to say that I'm happy he fell sick, but I have to say I'm glad he's finally resting, even if it _is_ under the influence of cough syrup and aspirin. Oh, and let's not forget the thirty-nine degree fever.

Tezuka hasn't come visit him.

I have lost all little respect I may or may not have developed for that ever-stoning statue.

Despite everything, he is still Syuusuke's _boyfriend_.

There are certain requirements to meet. Not to mention my expectations.

And at the top of both lists, is visiting when he is ill.

Yoshiko has also stayed at home to look after Fuji, though he was protesting quite a bit about making his mother miss work.

Ah, the dumb sacrificial arse.

He is really too nice for his own good.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He's still sick.

Tezuka hasn't come a single time since three days ago when Fuji first took medical leave. The tournament is in two weeks, I know that much, but it is no reason to neglect your _boyfriend_ for _three days_. I bet Fuji said something idiotic like 'please don't jeopardize our chances for the nationals for me'. He would be the only one who would mean that when he says it. And Tezuka would be the only one to actually listen to that when he hears it.

Couple of tennis crazed... I want to punch both of them.

For entirely different reasons, of course.

Well, Syuusuke is still frazzled by all the homework that Yoshiko collected from his school today.

How can those photocopiers even _survive_ printing so many worksheets? Christ. It was a _whole bag _of paper. I am now sitting on a pile of science homework. With what atomic structure and all the crap I bet Fuji already knows, but still has to write essays on anyway.

What the hell is with these people?

Seriously, stop being ridiculous. There is no point in doing things you already know over and over again. No point at all. Imagine what it would be like if _He_ made two hundred replicas of me.

Interesting? Not in the least. I would have expected Tokyo middle schools to be more than just scholar factories.

These humans just completely miss the point sometimes.

Is it just me who wants to knock some sense into them?

And Tezuka. Oh I can't even think of anything to say.

I just feel sad for Fuji for falling for such a guy.

If you hear him mumbling Tezuka's name in his sleep, your heart would break too.

It's just... just so... so...

GAH.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

That... that... AH SCREW HIM!

He went to school today.

With a fever of thirty seven and a half degrees. Is that guy mental?

Wait, don't answer that.

He finished all his homework in one full sitting. No meals, no sleep, nothing except a pen and correction tape. Then he just got up and left for school this morning, before Yoshiko even woke up. My guess is, he left a note on the kitchen table, explaining everything in one word.

Like 'School' or something like that.

I've run out of insults to call him.

I give up on making him see sense.

I mean, I would, except that I wasn't doing anything before. What is there to do, really. I can't talk to him, I can't write him notes, I can't even move.

In essence, I'm completely useless.

Completely, absolutely, utterly...

Useless. That's what I am, isn't it? A decoration. They can do away with me without missing anything.

Fuji doesn't even need me to talk to anymore.

He should just have left me smashed.

To see him getting like that... everyday, and to know that I can't help in any way except holding his worksheets down...

It gets exasperating.

* * *

Short chapter, but enuff drama to last you for a long period of time, I am sure.

Bunch of angsty stuff at the bottom.

Have fun with everything while I think of something to send to my cousins in Birmingham.

Their parent's just (finally) divorced last month, though they have been separated for two years already. It just so happens to be dear Chris's birthday. I went to visit them two years ago and Chris, along with his little brother Geordie, and their mother, are living in an apartment _meant for one person_. I wouldn't say I was the most fortunate person on earth, but at least I am living comfortably, and when I see something like this, in the flesh, it just makes me wonder why the world is so messed up. Chris is only thirteen. The age where he _needs his dad the most_.

I suppose it is better than have his parents legally together but always conflicting.

Bye!


	4. This is an authors note, but please read

Hey everyone

If you happen to have read my profile within the past week, you probably would have known of the situation.

If not, please read it.

But anyway, I want to thank everyone who has ready my stories and bothered to keep up till this stage.

I have no idea when I will be able to do anything fanfiction related again, but I will as soon as I can. That is a promise.

I bet half of you are going to murder me now for my inconsistency

If it's any consolation, I'm feeling just as murderous right now.

I love you guys,

MC


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